


Discordant Symphony

by Argonautical



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Halloween, I'm so sorry, More angst, Pharmercy, Porn With Plot, Sex, Smutober, dark future, evil!mercy, i am a Filthy Sinner, posessed!pharah, some S&M kind of stuff?, started as just smut and got really existential and darkfic-y really quickly, witch!mercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argonautical/pseuds/Argonautical
Summary: After the second great fall of Overwatch, Angela Ziegler hides out in Watchpoint: Gibraltar and descends into darkness. Everybody is dead or gone. She is not as alone as she thinks - but some things are just past the point of no return.Written originally as some smut based on Pharah and Mercy's halloween skins. Got super dark super quickly. Read at your own peril.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm off on holiday until Monday so I don't know if I'll get round to publishing another chapter of Tending Towards Chaos. So, my tired caffienated post UCAS-application submitting brain decided to write this. It's my first actual proper smut fic so I'd appreciate some feedback. It's surprisingly difficult to write smut when you don't want to use certain words for female genitals.  
> Content warning in advance for some mentions of suicide, sort of violent sex? It's mainly smut lol there's worse stuff on here.

 

The woman in the dark cloak flipped through the page of her heavy leather-bound book by the flickering light of a single candle. She needed the candle – the lights at Watchpoint: Gibraltar no longer worked. No electricity ran through the old Overwatch base. It had been abandoned for years and years, since the second great fall of the recalled Overwatch. Dust coated the surfaces and cobwebs swung and fluttered in the chill night breeze.

Angela did not know what kept her here. The memories of her time as ‘Mercy’ had faded so much in just twenty years that she would catch herself looking at a locker or waiting outside a dormitory, but did not know why she was lingering there. The nanobiotics she had used to great effect as a doctor, as a healer, they kept her alive. Perfectly preserved, not a day older than she had looked in the disintegrating photograph tacked to the control room console. In that, she had been dressed as a witch too. It had been the only outfit she had found in her old room when she had returned here, so now she was wearing it. Better that than one of Winston’s bathrobes.

It was fair to say that the fall of Overwatch had left Angela Ziegler a shattered woman. The heroes that never died had not risen when she called them back. Perhaps their bodies were too far destroyed for the nanobots to piece together. Perhaps their souls were too frayed at the edges from being dragged back from death so many times before. They called her Mercy, but her methods showed anything but.

Angela knew that some had survived that final battle in Jaipur. She had seen Fareeha disappear into the sky, choking and shouting as nanobots tried to worm their way into her suit to heal her. She left in a cloud of choking black smoke from her damaged jump jets, clinging to the corpse of her mother Ana. Tracer had been blasted out of her harness by a shell and had simply faded into nothingness. Too slowly. Slow enough to have time to scream for help that none of them could give her. Reaper was still out there somewhere, a shapeless cloud of particles struggling to reform into a physical body.

Things were grim.

Angela paused at a likely passage. She had discovered the book in a secret library deep below the castle at Eichenwalde, a crude alchemical text from the 1500s. Most of the things in here were pure fantasy, but a few had grounding in real science. She had extrapolated many of them with the aid of nanobots and created some… interesting effects. Were she superstitious, she would have called them ‘spells’.

_An incantation to commune with the departed_ , she read from the page. The author suggested that she tie a string of dead frogs around her neck and place her genitals in a bucket of lukewarm mead, then cry the name of the person she wished to speak to. She chuckled, the sound reverberating and echoing down the empty corridors and taking on a sinister edge as it spread through the Watchpoint. That one she would have to try when she had some private time.

The candle burned low and guttered in its holder. Angela closed the book and snuffed the flame with her fingers. The world went dark.

She heard footsteps above.

She grabbed her Caduceus staff and backed into a dark corner. The staff had been a tool of healing and empowerment, but now it was bent and crooked, rusted brown, with sharp shavings of metal sticking out from all the times Angela had been forced to use it in self-defence. She had lost her blaster in the last fight.

The footsteps were heavy, erratic, like a stumbling drunk. Cautiously Angela crept down the corridor, keeping to the shadows. Clunk, clunk, clunk, metal-booted feet sank down the stairs into the bowels of the base. Coming closer. A faint purple glow crept into the corridor from around the corner, becoming brighter with each laboured footstep. The intruder’s breathing was laboured, harsh.

In a jarring lunge, the intruder staggered through the double doors and into Angela’s vision. Her breath caught in her throat and her hand grew slack on the staff. This couldn’t be. Not after so long. Not after everything that had happened.

“Fareeha?”

The woman gave a pained yowl and reached out a hand as if to grab her. Angela noticed that oddly ‘Pharah’ still had her raptora suit on. She never had it on when on base, since it barely fit through the corridors. As it was she took up all the space available and slightly more, rusted metal scraping like fingernails on a chalkboard as she tried to push her way towards Angela.

Something was terribly wrong.

“Mercy!” Fareeha wheezed, brown eyes that Angela used to adore gazing into flickering with an unearthly light. From cracks and joints in her suit oozed a strange purple mist, a soft glow, the hiss of something awful happening inside the metal shell that Angela could not see.

“Fareeha, what – what happened?”

Fareeha’s eyes rolled madly in their blackened sockets. “You! You did this to me!”

“Me?”

Fareeha suddenly shouted something unintelligible, clutching at her head and scrunching her eyes shut. A pitiful wail escaped her lips as she tottered to the side and nearly fell over. She regained herself enough to begin slowly and surely closing the distance between her and the ‘good doctor’.

“Your nanobots!” She hissed. “At first they were not so bad. Too many! Too many for my body. But in time…”

She howled again, flinging her helmet off her head to show luminescent purple veins pounding just below the surface of her skin.

“They healed everything. I could not die. I wanted to just die! But times grew darker – _you_ grew darker – and so did the nanobots. I can feel them! Beneath my skin, in my blood, trying to take control!”

Angela just blocked the helmet in time as it was flung at her. The force of deflecting it with her staff almost shattered her bones. This Fareeha was angry. Angry and powerful.

A hundred things to say crossed Angela’s mind. That she was sorry. That she could not have predicted that they would lose that battle. That she had been experimenting with higher and higher doses of nanobiotics ever since the recall. That they were manufactured by her, linked to her, and that without her control and regular maintenance, they would begin to descend into their most basic form of programming: prevent death by any means necessary, even if that meant taking control away from their host.

“Fix me!” Fareeha yelled through clenched teeth. The light seeping from her body grew brighter, the mist of waste particles filling the corridor. Before Angela’s eyes the nanobots sensed weakness and dug deeper, trying to get into Fareeha’s very brain. The sixteenth-century writer of her spellbook would have called her possessed.

“I – I can’t.” Angela said.

“Liar! Dr. Ziegler can heal anything, that’s what mother always said! Help me!” A younger, sulky Fareeha broke through the deformed shell of the woman in front of her. Tears leaked down her cheeks. Angela saw that the nanobots had spared Fareeha’s body the ravages of time as well – though their methods had been crude, unkind, warping her body. Young and beautiful and twisted forever.

The shock of seeing the lover she’d thought dead for twenty years wore off. Angela’s heart hardened again, momentarily beating again at the sight of Fareeha. A cruel glint shone in her eyes as her lips quirked into a smirk.

“I can’t.” She said again, but instead of backing off she took a step forward. “You are too far gone. You cannot be saved. You should just give in, _mein_ _tapferer kleiner hund_.” And what a brave little puppy Fareeha was being indeed. Twenty years, she had fought against the rising ‘curse’ of the nanobots in her system, breeding, their code glitching, burrowing deeper and deeper into her body and mind. It was delicious to see her fighting her last fight, so close to giving in.

To watch the last of Fareeha’s hope crumble was to Angela like a sip of the finest wine. This way, they could be together again. Forever now, if what Angela suspected about the nanobots in her bloodstream was true. The two of them against the dark world and the chaos it had descended into after the second great fall of Overwatch, the last ones who had stood against the omnics and Talon.

“Fareeha.” Angela purred, stepping forward again to bring her within touching distance of the woman in her Raptora suit. Angela had better remove it now, or when the nanobots did finally wrestle all control away, they would assume it was part of Fareeha and… incorporate her into it permanently.

“Help me, Angela.” Fareeha whispered, tears shimmering on her cheeks, her voice cracking like the rusted shell of armour around her. “Save me.”

“That is what I am doing, _liebling_.” Angela said, running her hands across the suit, finding the catches and buckles she remembered after all these years even when she had forgotten so much. They came undone easily, bolts crumbling, straps worn to tatters. The pieces fell to the floor with loud thuds. As if being tethered to Fareeha’s body had somehow kept them together all these years, they crumbled into scrap and dust.

The body underneath was in the same peak physical condition Angela remembered. A tight breathable black bodysuit, torn and ripped and worn in places but still clinging to all the right curves. Fareeha’s brown skin had taken on a darker, duskier tint. Bright purple veins bulged up from beneath the surface. Fareeha’s limbs twitched, vulnerable and unsure of themselves after being freed from the suit after so long.

“I – I’m scared, Angela.” Fareeha whimpered, staring at her hands. With every wild heartbeat the glow intensified, her body shook more, her eyes rolled. A hand shot out to grab Angela for support, the grip iron-tight. “I can’t stop fighting it. It’s all I remember now.”

“Hush, my darling.” Angela pulled her close. Her skin was hot and feverish to the touch, small jolts of electricity coming from the short-circuiting nanobots in the mist. She gently brought Fareeha into her dark embrace, encircling her waist with delicate fingers. Fareeha’s breath came in pained pants onto her exposed neck, her hands burying themselves in the folds of Angela’s cloak.

“I tried to fight.” Fareeha whispered, “To fight against Talon, the omnics. But each year passing I felt less like myself. Less… alive. I’ve become this person at war with her own body. I just want to die. Just let me die.”

Angela tutted, running her fingers through Fareeha’s glossy black hair. It was dangerous, to have the woman this close. Angela had only predicted what would happen if nanobots took over completely, she’d never seen it happen. Fareeha could become violent, she could become possessed by the most basic and animalistic of her urges. The nanobots weren’t complex. When stressed they would revert to the base programming – but now much of even that code remained intact?

“Is that what you really want, darling? Death?”

“Yes. Just to be free of this pain. This war.”

“The pain will stop if you give in. Just let go. Either way, you will be free.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Angela lied.

Fareeha let out a great breath. Angela saw the moment she fell, saw the relief in her face as she lost the fight within herself. The nanobots surged, heart pounding, veins surging with eerie light. Fareeha’s hand yanked at the cloak, ripping it off and unbalancing Angela. She pushed the woman against the wall, bodies pressed hard together, snatching at skin and clothes and anything she could get her hands on. Angela coaxed her, sweet nothings in her ears even though Fareeha could not hear her during the transformation. Angela placed a kiss on Fareeha’s head and saw the behaviour mirrored by the torrent of nanobots, clumsily, the kiss landing on her ear.

Angela’s interest was piqued. She did something simple – a caress to the collarbone. Fareeha responded in kind, a grasping hand running down Angela’s chest, rough fingertips catching on her costume. Interesting. So, the nanobots were learning behaviour. Well, if that was the case…

“Fareeha.” Angela said, bringing the woman before her to attention. “On your knees.”

Fareeha struggled, teeth grinding, anguish and desire cresting on her features. She slowly descended until she was on her knees before Angela, eyes gazing up, hands twitching and reaching towards her.

“I can’t stop it.” She whined, moaning as another wave hit. “I feel… I feel…”

“Surrender control.” Angela ordered her, stifling a gasp as one of the jerking hands brushed against the inside of her thigh just above the stockings she was wearing. She couldn’t help giggle. So, these nanobots were intact enough to revert to the three ‘F’s’ of basic survival: feeding, fighting, and fucking.

“No, I can’t.” Fareeha said, but her hands wandered, frenzied, trying to feel more of Angela’s warm skin. Her body moved of its own volition, however much she denied the urge, however much she fought to stay in control. The force in her body and mind was like a whirlpool, sucking her thoughts into the maelstrom, robbing her of the ability to tell right from wrong. All she knew as she pushed her cheek against Angela’s smooth stockings was need, pure and primal. The most basic of desires, the strongest, a lust beyond anything she had ever known. In overtook her, a demon wearing her clothes.

Fareeha rolled one of the stockings down with one hand to reveal smooth, pale legs. She ran her hand up and down the calf, dipping into the recess behind the knee to feel the muscles and tendons there straining to keep Angela on her feet as she endured the ministrations. The other came soon after, and the shoes, pulled off and tossed aside unceremoniously. Fareeha’s calloused fingertips roamed the expanse of skin, up and up, finding the curve of Angela’s hips, rotating away and over the pert curve of her rear. Fareeha kneaded the skin reverently, relishing the sensation, the very ends of her fingers ghosting into the cleft between the cheeks.

Angela leaned back against the wall and bit her lip at the feeling. Twenty years was a long time without a lover, carrying the weight of the deaths of her teammates on her shoulders, condemning herself to solitude. Masturbation was one thing, but this… this set her body alight, a fever dream made flesh. Fareeha learned fast, part of her remembering from so long ago those sensitive spots over Angela’s hip-bones, her mouth pressing in to suckle at the pristine skin. Throbs of pleasure began to pound in her core, the damp of desire seeping out into her underwear.

Fareeha responded to the scent of Angela’s arousal like a dog in its first heat, pushing herself closer, tongue tasting the salty sweat beading on Angela’s skin. Unable to take the assault any more, Angela sank to her knees, only to find Fareeha’s strong arms there to support her. She carried Angela as easily as a bag of shopping, out of the corridor and into the mess hall. Angela thought for a moment that somehow Fareeha knew to move towards the dormitories in search of a bed.

The way she was roughly thrown down onto a sofa and straddled disproved that theory. Fareeha’s weight on top of her punched the breath from her lungs almost as much as the introduction of a thigh pushed up between her legs. Fareeha clenched Angela’s wrists in her hands to keep her pinned down and heaved herself back and forward, the knee slowly grinding against her groin. Every other press the angle was just right to rub her clit, sending pleasure ricocheting up her spine.

“What’s happening?” Fareeha moaned, unable to think, unable to stop her insatiable desire to bury her face in Angela’s lap. She grasped and snatched with needy hands and suckled with hungry lips, addicted to the taste, the sensation. Each erratic beat of her heart she felt heat pulse through her body and her control slip further and further.

“You, my love, are getting past the point of no return.” Angela gasped as Fareeha’s hand ripped the cheap witch costume from her chest and exposed her to the cold air in the deserted base. Her nipples stood to attention, pink and erect, begging for contact. Fareeha slid her body up atop Angela’s so she could clasp her lips over one of the nipples, her burning tongue lapping at the hard nub. Angela squirmed and panted as Fareeha’s hands grabbed her thighs and began to prize them open, her thumbs curled around the inside to catch her underwear and pull it down too in one tantalisingly slow motion, fingertips just an inch away from Angela’s slick lips.

“Oh, god.” Fareeha groaned at the sight of Angela’s sex exposed in front of her. It dripped with promise, the scent heady and rich. She wanted it so badly, wanted to drink it all up and penetrate deeper, to leave her mark all over this woman, to leave her mark inside of her.

“I’m sure there is a saying,” Angela breathed, grinding her hips against nothing, frustrated by the lack of contact as Fareeha just stared, “About taking a sip from the devil’s cup.”

“I want to… I want to devour you.” Fareeha sobbed through her lust, frenzy growing within her, rising in her body, her own pleasure leaving a dark stain on the crotch of her bodysuit. “This feeling…”

“Don’t fight it.” Angela ground her teeth and tried to pull Fareeha close to her, but her lover wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll hurt you.” Fareeha said, frightened, a touch of brown returning to her bleached pupils. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words made Angela go taut, her whole body teetering on the edge of reason. “I want you to hurt me.”

“You don’t understand, this power, I don’t think I can control it!”

“Surrender control!” Angela hissed, tired of Fareeha’s pitiful attempts to cling her justice and righteousness. “There is only us! Only now! The world is broken beyond repair, the chaos will only grow to consume and destroy it! All we have left is to fall into depravity, into lust and gluttony and all of the other sins! Your duty has ended, Fareeha Amari. You are discharged. You are dead, do you understand? We are all dead now. We have no obligation, no duty, there is no right and wrong! You are here, returned to me, and I will not lose you to a fight you will never win!”

Fareeha’s stunned body was easy to topple. Angela was up in a flash, forcing Fareeha down onto the sofa, hand pushing down on her chest. A thrill of fear clutched at Fareeha but was consumed by the eruption of pleasure as Angela dipped two fingers between her legs and ground against her clit through the thin material.

“This is all we have left, Fareeha.” Angela whispered, gyrating to the discordant symphony of their frantically beating hearts. “So what if I get hurt? So what if we die? We have nothing to lose. So fuck me. Fuck me like it’s our last night on earth.”

She swatted Fareeha’s hand away and lifted herself, positioning herself above Fareeha’s face. She heard a gasp and felt Fareeha tense up, then the sweet relief of her moist lips pressed against Fareeha’s face. The woman’s tongue began to move, sloppy licking, gasping for breath, lips whispering devotion into her core. Angela supported herself on the back of the sofa and her free leg, so Fareeha moved her hands to her own clit and began to rub furiously, technique abandoned. She just needed to feel more, to savour the explosion within herself before it all fell apart.

“Yes,” Angela breathed, grinding down harder on Fareeha’s face, feeling her struggle to breathe for a second, then adjust to the new pressure, “Go on. Devour me.”

A powerful tongue flicked against Angela’s clit, then disappeared to make rounds of her lips before returning. Fareeha lapped like the eager puppy Angela had called her minutes before, her tongue hot and sticky with saliva. Angela’s fluids dripped down onto her cheeks and ran down into her hair, splayed out on the sofa, but she didn’t care. She ached for more contact, to be further inside.

She eased her tongue inside, the muscle forcing Angela’s tight opening to accommodate its size. The muscle could only reach so far, but Fareeha dipped it in and out, brushing the shallower parts of Angela’s walls before retracting and returning to her clit. Fareeha’s own fingers grasped at herself clumsily as the tension in her body began to grow.

“Stop.” Angela ordered, and Fareeha obeyed without question. Angela got up and discarded her remaining clothes, but reached into her pocket to reveal a switchblade. Fareeha eyed it in alarm, the basic survival instinct kicking it. But Angela did not attack her, rather she cut at the bodysuit, slicing the fabric open to reveal all of Fareeha’s corrupted body.

“Glorious.” She breathed, familiar muscles straining under tainted skin. She moved once again to sit on Fareeha’s face, but presented her rear instead. She wasted no time in laying herself across Fareeha upside down, their skin rubbing together, sweat slick between them. Fareeha resumed her ministrations, and yelped when Angela tangled a hand in the curls between her own legs and tugged lightly.

“And you were worried _you_ would hurt _me_.” Angela chuckled, stroking the curls and the dampness beneath them. “Silly girl.”

She supported herself on one elbow and moved the other hand to hover a hair’s breadth away from Fareeha’s swollen lips before sliding one finger between them. Fareeha moaned into Angela’s own sex, causing her to jerk in response and sink a finger deep inside Fareeha.

Angela pulled it out and circled Fareeha’s clit with the pad of her thumb, then plunged the finger in again. From this angle she had perfect reach to curl the finger and press against the place that made Fareeha –

“Unngh!”

Fareeha clutched at Angela’s rear above her face, fingernails digging in to the expanse of flesh. The pain lanced through Angela and caused a dribble of arousal to drip down Fareeha’s chin.

“Again.” She commanded, pressing her finger deep inside again. Fareeha gripped her harder, raising little welts. “Harder. More. Don’t hold back. Please.”

Was it the throaty voice Angela had asked her in, or being begged? Fareeha would never know, but it tipped her over the edge. She abandoned the last of her resolve. The floodgates open, and her mind was consumed. She ran her fingernails down Angela’s arse and left scratches that drew thin lines of blood, a shudder running through the woman atop her as she did so.

Fareeha forced her face right up against Angela’s sex, not caring about the mess on her chin, eyes closed as the dripping flesh caressed every inch of her. Her licking became more and more frenzied, hands clawing at Angela’s perfect, defilable body, consumed and burning in her own lust. She could feel it rising, feel her muscles tightening as if Angela was cranking a winch in her core, her body about to burst, her mind about to surrender itself completely to possession.

It crashed over her like a howling wind, hot and sticky. Fareeha’s body shuddered as Angela cried out and dipped two fingers deep inside her, thumb scraping against her clit. They came simultaneously, Fareeha desperate to suck in a breath but the only thing she could find when she opened her mouth was Angela’s juices spilling all over her. Angela sobbed and swore, her body clamping down atop her lover. They continued, Fareeha’s mouth and Angela’s fingers, riding out the orgasms until they were raw and begging for reprieve.

Fareeha sank deep into the afterglow, her body twitching, her face aching. The rush of nanobots surged up her neck and into her brain, overriding the last of her defences. It was like being slowly submerged into warm water, her consciousness fading, the world becoming blurred. She felt Angela’s weight shift and saw her lover’s face directly in front of her.

“I will find a way.” Angela whispered to her, placing a tender kiss on her forehead as Fareeha’s eyes went blank with the tell-tale nanobiotic glow. To her surprise, she was… crying?

“You’ll still be there, locked inside that body.” Angela cooed, stroking her soaked hair. “You’ll stay here with me, where I can keep your soul from being completely lost. I’ll… I’ll check my books. Do some experiments. Find a way.”

That thought was nice, Fareeha’s fading consciousness mused. She would fall into this comfortable sleep that was washing over her, and sometime later Angela would wake her up. They would be together again.

The body below her slumped and the eyes went white. Angela stared mournfully down at her old lover, finally succumbed to the madness and loss of the dark world they found themselves in.

“Get dressed.” She ordered. The nanobiotic zombie that Fareeha had become would take simple commands. It rose and left to search the lockers in the changing rooms for suitable clothing, but Angela did not leave the sofa. She was staring into space. There had to be a way. Fareeha’s soul was still there. Not forever, but it would last a few years before degrading completely, passing on to wherever the next place was.

The next place scared Dr. Angela Ziegler. She had spent her whole life researching a way to avoid it, to live forever. She could not bear to face the family she had lost in heaven – or, she supposed, she would never have to if she went to hell. And that was probably where she was going, after all.

Well, Fareeha’s soul was pure. She would pass on sooner rather than later. Angela knew Fareeha would not want to linger, trapped deep in that possessed body, for too long. The clock was ticking.

Angela set to work. She would find a way to return Fareeha to her even if she had to drag her soul back from death itself. Dr. Angela Ziegler had done that plenty of times before, and would do it again. Fareeha would be hers, forever the two of them, together to watch their world burn.


End file.
